The Warrior King
by mogerthemuffin
Summary: His son was kidnapped, his wife murdered, and the city threw him out, but this warrior refused to give up.
1. prologue

A.N: Just a short note before you read this story. I thought this story up after I finished Jak 3 and the main plot is a dead spoiler to the game, so if you haven't played the game by now do it before you read this fic. Hopefully I will finish this fic before I get bored with it.

Prologue:

Tomo was afraid for his life, but his cold chiseled features masked his emotions. It was true that he was a man who was regarded highly for his bold courage and superior skill in combat, but when you have made the Warrior King your enemy, you should be afraid. Tomo looked down at the young child, only three years of age and already destined to be the most powerful man this world has ever seen. The child looked up at him with his innocent blue eyes, a cold sweat inched down Tomo's back making him shiver and look away from the child. The darkness of the tunnel was welcoming to Tomo and he felt himself relax as he stared into nothingness.

The hum of the zoomers seized to exist as the hour wore on, yet the alarms still screamed for the child in their two toned ring. The King would stop at nothing to get his son back and had probably assigned most of the city's guards looking for the brat. Tomo was assured by his contacts that no one would find him and he would be safe, for a while. Tomo believed them; the central part of the city was enormous and the likelihood of the guards knowing of the old Lurker tunnel within was doubtful. The tall concrete buildings and the many numerous allyways would keep the guard occupied for days, increasing Tomo's chance of being undetected and walking away from his crime.

The rusted iron hatch squeaked and groaned as it was carefully twisted open. Tomo moved into the shadows, keeping the kid behind him. A shadowy figure moved into his line of sight and Tomo reached for his blaster instinctively.

"Tomo," whispered the person. Tomo revealed himself at the mention of his name, "Ah there you are, is the child with you?"

"Aye, he is. Are you to take him then?"

"Very good. Yes I will take him now."

The stranger didn't sound like a goon to Tomo, and it was unusual for educated upper class citizens to take part in 'his' kind of activities. But the kid was being taken off of his hands, as was the fear of being caught by the King. Tomo gladly handed over the child and watched the two leave the hideaway. He would wait awhile till he himself surfaced, just a precaution he learned to take back in his youth when himself and a close friend, coming from poor families, had taken up thievery to survive. On a particularly wealthy job he and his friend had returned to their hideaway in order to wait out the search. After everything had died down his friend had emerged from the tunnel with him closely following. A group of guards were waiting for them and arrested him and his friend. Tomo remembered that day well, had he waited a few minutes before following after his friend, he wouldn't have gone to prison for the year.

Tomo looked up at the entrance, the stranger had forgotten to close it. Tomo shrugged and began to climb the ladder, when a small spherical object hit his head. He looked down to see what had hit him - it was a plasmite bomb. Tomo started to climb the ladder faster but the hatch had closed and was locked from the outside. The stranger smiled as a muffled boom reached his ears.

"Do not be frightened boy, you are needed in the future were you will help unfold events that will lead to my uprising."

Heavy clouds were settling over the city promising rain later in the day, as Damas paced on the balcony of the palace. The sight of the city was usually a pleasant one for Damas, but today was filled with grief and the powerfully built man could find no beauty in the city below. He leaned on the rail and looked down at the maze of streets, he was to high to see the activity going on below but he knew it was chaotic. The order he had given the Guard was to lock down the city and find his son at all costs. Three hours had passed since then and panic began to swell his heart.

It was the happiest day of Damas's life when his son was born. He named him Mar, after the great King of the past, and following the tradition of calling the first born son Mar or Damas alternating with each successive generation. The name seemed to suit the boy, even as an infant Mar had the spirit of a true hero. Damas would spend as much time as he could with the boy, telling him of his journies and of the Legends of Mar. Even before the seer Onin had predicted the boy's greatness, Damas had seen it himself in Mar's striking blue eyes, his eyes.

Damas took out the seal of the House of Mar from his pocket and closed his fingers around the tiny trinket.

"My Son"


	2. chapter 1

A.N: Sorry it took so long.

Chapter 1

The Bazaar was crowded, as usual, with people seeking to lighten their purses. The barely visible stands of fruit, material, and other trinkets were a mix of bright colours that stood out from the neutral browns and grays of the street. The sound of customers and merchants haggling the prices of goods drowned the noise of the highway above. And the variety of smells filled the air and ticked the nose.

The cloaked figure of Damas walked through the Bazaar with ease. Despite his broad shoulders, Damas didn't bump into or push the preoccupied people; his movements were unusually graceful for such a large man. The man following him, however, did not possess such grace and he struggled to keep up with the former king.

Kielyn near worshiped the man in front of him. It was an honor to be chosen to walk with Damas through the streets of Haven, but he looked like a fish out of water next to the powerful man as they moved through the mass of people. Ever since he was a young child, Kielyn loved the heroic tales of Damas the Warrior King and his many battles against the evil swarms of metalheads. He knew now that the stories were exaggerated, but looking at the powerful man in front of him, Kielyn could imagine Damas fighting large beasts in the desert and rescuing maidens in distress.

His calf and thigh muscles ached with exhaustion as the hour passed by. Damas didn't show any signs of tiring and kept his pace. Kielyn was beginning to wonder if Damas was lost, but surely the Great Warrior King would be able to find his way through his city. The burning sensation in Kielyn's legs was spreading through his body like a wildfire and beads of sweat appeared on his brow. Damas obviously sensed the young man's fatigue and went toward the fountain in the center of the square. Taking a seat on the stone ledge, Damas gestured Kielyn to join him. Children playing around the fountain stopped and looked at the two men who sat in the middle of their play area and decided to play another game, one that included who could get the closest to the cloaked figures. Damas didn't seem to care about the youngsters' game and relaxed on the ledge.

Kielyn was strong for 17 years old. His body wasn't heavily built but well toned and the baby fat of his youth was long gone from his lean form. Only a year into manhood, his body was sun kissed, as all soldiers' bodies were, and his hands were callused from manual labour. His face, still youthful, was set and expressionless as his sharp blue eyes scanned the crowd for a threat. It was unsettling to be sitting in the middle of a crowd with a wanted man. He saw everyone as a potential threat, as he had been trained to do. He cast a threatening glare at the young children as they edged closer to Damas. They froze and retreated along the ledge giggling.

"Ease up young Kielyn. If the guards come they will make their presence known, and we will face them head on," said Damas seeing the youth's tension.

"Yes Sire."

"You can call me Damas, no more titles, I didn't even like them when I was King. I am no more than an outlaw veteran, who is more than capable of killing these Krimson scum," said Damas with no malice in his words. He didn't blame the guards for his exile from the throne; he knew they were only following orders. Just a bunch of yakows following the wolf.

Kielyn smiled, Damas's demeanor helped him relax despite the situation. A breeze picked up and the wind dried the sweat upon Kielyn's brow, chilling him. It was a nice day, even though the smog clouds hung over the city like vultures over a dieing animal. Since the Baron had secured the throne for over a month, weapons factories had picked up production, polluting the air. The Baron had also hired new guards who bore his colour; Kielyn had heard that the guards also had to tattoo themselves to prove their loyalty. Many of Damas's guards, who didn't pledge allegiance to the Baron, were cast out of the city or killed. Kielyn had been lucky. He had signed up for the guard two month's prior to the Baron's takeover and had only just escaped the Baron's Krimson Guards. Most of his comrades, who he had attended training school with, were killed. Some of Damas's most loyal Blue Guards, that had escaped the Baron, formed an underground operation to combat the Baron. Many of the Blue Guards who had also escaped persecution from the Baron joined this force as Kielyn had.

Damas caught a glimpse of red from the crowd. He relaxed his body and his mind. One of the first lessons he learned was to not overly concentrate on the situation, this way he would react to events better. His mind wandered into the past back before he had became king. His father had hired Gorm, a skilled soldier to instruct the young prince in the ways of combat. During one of their many sword duels Gorm had struck Damas hard on the wrist with his stick.

"Stop! What are you doing young master? Had this been with real swords, I would have cut off your hand," Gorm spat at Damas.

"Your speed is unequalled, everyone knows this, I cannot keep up with your moves," replied the frustrated youth while rubbing at the red spot on his wrist.

"Speed has nothing to do with it," Gorm told him, and seeing the disbelief in the boy's eyes, he said, "you have not learned to trust your inner-selves."

"My inner-selves?"

"Yes. People have many different people inside them in which they use to function in different situations. For example, you act differently around your father than you do around me, do you not?"

"Yes."

"When you are in combat you need to trust yourself to react with the right Damas; weither that be the Dama's who will fight or back away. It is what gives you speed of hand, allowing you to react faster to your opponent and allowing you to judge their moves. Do you understand now?"

"Yes I do, but how can I accomplish this skill?"

"Let your mind wonder, devoid of all emotion, and try not to concentrate on what you should do, rather just do," said Gorm positioning himself in the attack position once more to continue with Damas's training.

Damas hurled himself sideways as a red shot sizzled by. He looked around the crowd again and saw that the Krimson Guards were surrounding them. People were hurrying away from the sudden outburst of violence hoping not to be caught up in the fire. Damas swiftly drew his gun from under his cloak. He didn't want to fire just yet, there were to many innocents in between him and the guards, and had no desire to accidentally shoot one. The Guards opened more rounds on him, not caring if they hit a citizen. Damas leapt into the fountain, seeking cover from the ledge, and closely following was Kielyn.

"So much for a break," he joked, then his eyes widened as he saw the two young children still on the ledge. Damas turned and saw the children also. He got up, ignoring his exposure to the guards, and ran towards the children. Grabbing them he pulled them down into the water. Their eyes were wide with fear and one of them pleaded for his mommy. Damas told them to stay down, and made his way over to Kielyn.

"Are you good with that weapon boy?" he asked him pointing to Kielyn's gun.

"I can hold my own," said Kielyn honestly.

"Were going to have to make it quick and precise," Damas said and Kielyn nodded his agreement. Damas counted down from three using his fingers and both men raised their guns over the ledge and shot the first KG they saw. Within the second they were back down behind the ledge.

"I counted fifteen and shot one down," reported Kielyn.

"I also shot one, thirteen more to go."

Damas and Kielyn repeated their quick fire from different directions and at different periods to keep the guards guessing and to keep them from advancing on their position. The two children in the fountain with them whimpered each time the two men ducked under a volley of fire. By now the crowd had fled the square seeking a safer place to shop. Damas was just about to fire again when a woman's voice cried out for someone. One of the children yelled back and fled the safety of the fountain ledge to seek out his mother. Damas swore under his breath and went out over the ledge; he would be lucky to get to the boy faster than the guards' fiery red shots did.

Kielyn saw the move and covered Damas with a volley of shots at the guards. The remaining KG, which Kielyn counted at five, had been distracted by the sudden movement out of the fountain that they didn't have time to dodge Kielyn's volley and three went down. Kielyn rose up out of the fountain and shot the other two with haste; back up was probably on the way and Kielyn didn't want to wait around for them to arrive. Damas kept low to the ground sheltering the struggling child under his body. Seeing the danger was gone he stood up and let the boy go to his mother. The other boy also ran towards the frantic mother and was held in her embrace.

Kielyn walked over to Damas and stopped beside him. The young man's talent with the gun impressed Damas as well as how Kielyn had handled himself in the heat of the moment. There was much courage in the boy and Damas knew he had picked the right man for the job. Damas looked at Kielyn, and for a moment their eyes locked in silent understanding. They took of knowing that to linger would mean death.

Damas took Kielyn through the winding streets of the bazaar until he stopped at a large brown tent in the corner of another square. Kielyn's nose twitched at the strong perfumes emanating from it and for a moment he thought he might be sick. The nausea passed and he followed Damas into the tent. An old seer was at the opposite end of the tent sitting cross-legged with what appeared to be a large bowl on her head. The room was filled with jars of powders, potions, and other such things. Damas took a step towards the old woman and bowed. The old seer made a number of hand gestures in which a colourful residue was left behind and lingered floating in the air for a second. Kielyn jumped at the sudden sound to his right.

"Awwk. Onin says it is good to see you are well Lord Damas, oh and you too Master Kielyn," said a strange looking creature that looked like a cross between a parrot and a monkey. It continued talking when Onin waved her hands, "Onin also says that she must confirm your greatest fear Warrior King."

Damas looked downcast, his posture slouched and his eyes looked down at his feet. He dreaded the words Pecker was about to say.

"Onin says that you will not find your son here; he is lost to you."

"Do you know who?"

"No, but she does know why and she says that it will break your heart to hear it. As with most of the Mar line, your son has the great ability to channel eco and it is for this quality that he was taken. Onin says that he will live a happy and adventurous childhood and will grow up to be a champion worthy of the name Mar. But he will suffer greatly in this city and he will not remember you…"

Damas left the tent and headed back to the underground hoping that he could take out his frustration on any who oppose him. Kielyn walked silently behind him, not knowing what to say or if he should say anything at all. He knew that Damas loved his son dearly and that this news cast a large hole in his soul. Not a word was said the whole trip.

"He will not remember you King Damas of Spargas, but you will unknowingly find him and he will make you proud."


	3. chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Baron paced in his study. The day had been nothing but paperwork and politics, his head was pounding from all the bullshit that was thrown around in the council meeting held only minutes ago. Could these simpletons not think for themselves? Praxis slumped into his large chair behind his desk and pondered the only important fact mentioned that morning. What of Damas? The people still loved their former King and the majority was still loyal to him. Even stripped of his power Damas mocked him, it was humiliating. How was he going to rule the people if the people had no respect for him? And this Underground resistance force was like a thorn in Praxis's side, making him look like an incompetent fool.

Everything had been planned out meticulously, and would have been flawless had it not been for Damas. The king and his royal guard had gone out of the city into the Forbidden Forest to quell a rising force of metalheads. It was the perfect time to take the throne, the palace was virtually unprotected and the Baron's personal guard could easily take it with little effort. When the King came back into the city, he would be welcomed by an escort unit of Krimson Guards, were he will be put into the Palace Prison to rot until he signed his powers over to Praxis. Unfortunately the King's wife, Aria, had gotten to the emergency communications unit to report to Damas the events happening in the Palace, and the King returned prematurely. The escort guard waiting for him was caught on their rear flank when Damas and his elite took another entrance into the city, coming directly behind the Krimson Guards, and defeating them within a matter of minutes. Fortunately, Praxis had taken the Palace and activated the security system to allow no one in. The Baron had hoped to have caught the Queen in order to use her against Damas, but she, and some of Damas's senior officers, had escaped the Palace before the security had been activated.

It was galling how one man and his wife could thwart his seemingly perfect plan. Even now Damas and Aria had escaped the KG patrols and raids, and the news that Damas had once again gotten away from his clutches frustrated Praxis to no end. The Baron rubbed at the scared tissue on the left side of his face. If only he could be rid of Damas, the city would be his to control without resistance. How he longed to see the powerful man beg at his feet for mercy, and then see the life snuffed out of him like a candle. The thought brought a baleful smirk to his face and a plan came to him.

* * *

Damas mood darkened in the following days after the meeting with Onin, and was affecting the ambiance of the Underground. Most of the members of the underground had become short tempered and restless, the only one not affected by Damas's brooding was Aria. She had to be strong for Damas and for her long lost son. The news Damas brought back to her about Mar had broken her heart, but she couldn't afford to break down emotionally. Her other boys, the men of the Underground, and her husband, needed to sense her strength and to let it fill them. She was the light in the darkness. 

Aria kneeled in front of her husband who was sitting on the side of the bed, head in his hands. Her hands gently cuffed his face and she looked into his sharp indigo eyes. She saw Damas's pain and his struggle to quell the anger that was lurking within him. His face softened and he bent over to kiss her forehead.

"It is not the end my love, our son does still live and we should be thankful for that and hope he continues to live a happy life," she said, his forehead now resting on her own. "Let us not dwell on the fact that we have been robbed of our first born. You need to stop this destructive thinking and move on."

"I will not forget our son Aria," Damas said angrily, his head lifting up off of hers and he stood up, towering over her.

"Nor will I, but we need to be strong. Can't you see? The whole Underground is miserable because of your attitude. If we were attacked by the Baron it would be a sure loss. The moral is low and if this continues the Underground will disband," she said keeping her voice soft and low and taking his hands into her own.

Damas sighed in silent acceptance. He hated it when he was in the wrong; Aria would not let him forget it anytime soon. She stood up and kissed him on the cheek. She knew he would come around eventually and relief washed over her.

"You should go back to work, I think Samos is beginning to get overwhelmed by the extra work load you piled on him," Aria said, breaking their embrace and turning toward the door. She paused momentarily in the door frame to glance back at Damas, his powerful disposition restored and radiating confidence once more. She took off down the long corridor of the Underground facility; taking little notice to the soldiers she passed along the way. She needed to get some fresh air. The close quarters of the Underground were starting to wear on her, and she felt an urge to escape. Running up the flight of stairs, she finally reached the exit, and stepped onto the old wooden flooring of Samos's hut. She leaned on the balcony railing and looked over the small sector.

The main headquarters for the Underground was located in the farthest corner of the city. The area was mostly left alone by the Baron and his KG for it was a quiet community with no booming businesses. Most citizens called it the Mid-sector for the people who lived there weren't rich like the upper-class citizens living in the city but weren't as poor as the people living in the vast slums. It was one of the most beautiful places inside the city walls. Gardens upon gardens of flowers and other lush greenery surrounded the buildings and streets as well as clean clear water not yet polluted by the toxins of the city. It was the only sector, besides the rural sector, to have organic plants growing in such quantity. The buildings were stacked neatly together, influencing a sense of community unto its occupants. It was the ideal place to raise a family. There were Schools for children of all ages that provided a safe learning environment and there was no crime to speak of.

Footsteps came up behind her and Aria looked back despite knowing who it was. Sure enough the lean figure of the Commander of the former guard came up and leaned on the rail beside her. Commander Stav Wayland looked out at the horizon, his sharp intelligent eyes scanning the area. Although he was old, Aria could still see the strength the man had once possessed in the days of his prime. His grizzled face was still handsome despite the mask of battle scars of war torn days. As long as she could remember Commander Wayland had always managed to keep track of her whereabouts. She remembered countless times when she had tried to sneak out of the palace to visit the bazaar and mingle with the commoners, but always he had caught her in the act and many other times had accompanied her. He had also managed to get her out of the palace to safety when the Baron had turned on her husband.

Recalling events of the past, she chided herself for not seeing the betrayal of Baron Praxis before it happened. How could she have been so blind? The man had obviously been jealous of Damas, which quickly turned into hatred when Damas was crowned king. But she couldn't see Praxis kidnapping Mar; the man hadn't even paid any attention to the young prince. If the Baron didn't do it, who did, and what would that person have to gain?

As if reading her thoughts Commander Wayland cleared his throat and said, "I lost a son once. He was a year into manhood and was sent on a mission into the wasteland. His squad encountered some metalheads and were torn apart. The soldiers that returned said he was killed. For a long time after that the sun did not rise for me, there was no more joy left in this pit of a city. I suspect that Damas and you must feel the same way. It is terrible to lose a child, but you and Damas bring hope to us all."

Tears began to form in her eyes. She felt like such a hypocrite. Had she not just said those words to Damas? Yet she was still brooding. She stood, leaning against the railing of the balcony with Commander Wayland beside her, and tears shimmered down her face in the fading light of the sun.

* * *

The angle of the setting sun's rays cast shadows over the streets of the mid-sector. The black garbed figure stealthily moved from shadow to shadow, careful not to be noticed by the KG patrols that walked the barren streets to enforce the new curfew. The person melted into the darkness of the city like a ghost. Keeping a vigilant eye out for the red armor of the guards the 'Ghost' moved down alleyways and streets to an access panel leading to the sewers. The hatch opened with a loud metallic screech and the Ghost stopped to look around. Satisfied that no one heard, or that no one cared to look, the ghost slipped down into the grim of the sewer. 

The sewers beneath Haven City were a maze of plumbing. Pipes connected to pipes leading to rotundas and so on and so forth. To traverse through the sewers brought to perspective the sheer size of the city.

The Ghost navigated the tunnels with ease. Each turn and pathway etched to memory so much that it was second nature. After nearly an hour of walking through sludge, the Ghost reached another access door. The gears of the door activated upon the Ghost's approach and a moment or so later the door opened and light flooded the dark corridor. An underground community lay in the mists of the sewers, where the filth of the city gathered and did business. The Ghost welcomed the sight of the small cut-throat villa and went towards a pub called the Grimy Dagger.

The Grimy Dagger was the smallest pub in the area but known for its secrecy; anything that went on in the pub was never mentioned outside of the pub. The owner, and barkeep, of the Grimy Dagger was an ex-convict and said to be the only one to return from the wastelands after being banished. Although a large man, his skill and speed with gun and blade kept violent arguments from happening in and around his pub. Everyone knew that Klever was not a man to piss off.

The Ghost entered the pub. The hush of secretive meetings and other business stopped momentarily to watch the new comer enter. The Ghost walked further into the room and the whisper from the booths and tables continued. Klever watched as the dark figure strolled in, absently wiping the dirty counter with an equally dirty cloth. The Ghost leaned over the bar top and whispered something to Klever, who nodded and led the Ghost into the back room.

"Well, is it worth my time to be here?" said the already present cloaked figure.

"That depends if you have the agreed fee,"

Throwing a cred card on the table, the mysterious figure took of the cloak revealing the red armor of a KG officer. "I think that was what was agreed upon. Now for your part of the deal…"

The Ghost looked at the cred card's display: 50 thousand creds. "The Underground has several outposts throughout the city. But their main HQ is located in the mid-sector…"

* * *

A.N: Okay so I know that the story is going slow and my writing it is going even slower but bare with me it will pick up I promise. 


	4. chapter 3

A.N: Sorry it took so long, I rewrote it so many times and I still don't think it's exactly what I wanted. Oh well, hope you like it.

Chapter 3

When news of the leak reached the Underground it was too late.

The building of the new wall between the mid-sector and the rest of the city was merely an oddity that no one could explain. The informants within the KG hadn't reported anything that was to be used against the Underground, and so the building of the wall was regarded as poor city planning. When the wall was completed, some weeks later, the realization of what was being done dawned on the sector's inhabitants and panic swept through the masses.

The KG units stationed in the mid-sector retreated into the city, locking the only door out behind them. None could believe what was happening. The people of Haven were shocked. Family and Friends of people confined in the mid-sector protested at the palace. The Baron had counted on this sort of response from the public and welcomed it. It was the perfect opportunity to cripple the Underground and prevent it from spreading again. The Baron had made it clear to the whole city that the Underground was responsible for this course of action. If the people were afraid of what transpires in the mid-sector, they weren't going to allow the Underground to harbor anywhere else in the city.

A week after the completion of the wall, the eco of the mid-sector was cut off and diverted into the wall. The whole sector was exposed to the outside wastelands as well as the awaiting metalhead army. It was only a matter of time before the metalheads figured out the wall was no longer operational. The members of the Underground trapped inside had come out into the open and armed all able citizens with weapons. Damas rallied the people and managed to keep the chaotic situation under control. He ordered the making of safe homes and bunkers for families and their children. He sent patrols into the sewers to investigate an alternate way out, and stationed a look out near the wall. The people obeyed his every command, and felt prepared for whatever came their way.

Days later the wall was breached and the metalheads came at them with the force of a hurricane. It was a massacre. No matter how prepared they thought they were nothing could have prepared them for that attack.

For the whole day the people desperately fought off the metalheads. They stood shooting into the seemingly endless ocean of talons and fangs only to fell a fraction of the creatures. The number of metalheads outweighed their own fifty to one, and slowly the people of the mid-sector were pushed back. Damas watched the battle from Samos's hut, which was a fair distance from the madness. He would have preferred to be in the center of it, fighting alongside the makeshift militia and his own men, but it was pointed out that if he died on the first day they would have no chance at all. Damas was starting to wonder if they had any chance to begin with.

Damas scanned the mid-sector looking for an advantage point. The brunt of the metalhead attack was unorganized and concentrated in the buildings directly ahead of where they had breached the wall. Damas found it odd that the metalheads didn't break left or right to swarm the rest of the city, but instead seemed insistent on a single course. For some reason the metalheads looked like their target was the hut. Damas couldn't make sense of it, but then he didn't want to. The position of the metalheads and the nature of their attack weakened their flanks, if he could ebb the flow of metalheads, the remaining would be blaster fodder. Easier said then done he thought, a grin escaping onto his expressionless face.

Kielyn was situated in the front line when the attack started. The soldiers beside him were killed instantly when the wall was breached and concrete crushed them. It was chance and a lot of luck that he was still alive. But the luck he had was quickly used up as he found himself and a handful of others in the heart of the metalhead force. They fought desperately to rejoin with the rest of the defenders, seeking some sort of support in this madness. They fought until they couldn't fight anymore, their limbs laden with exhaustion. Kielyn knew that to give into the weakness would be death. He ducked and fired his blaster constantly into the attacking beasts. He tried desperately to keep the small radius around him free of metalheads.

When he saw the parting to his left there was no hesitation, he ran for it. He could feel the hot rancid breath of a metalhead behind him in pursuit. He turned wildly sending a volley of fire into the stalking beast. It was closer than Kielyn had first thought and had clawed at him in a dieing rage. Kielyn was sent flying from the beast as well as the rest of the fray. The metalhead's claws had penetrated his armor and Kielyn could feel the warm sensation of blood escaping the gashes in his chest.

He struggled to his feet and made his way towards the cover of buildings. The great concrete structures loomed over him and instead of feeling safe; Kielyn couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability. He gently removed the armor and probed his wounds. It was a wonder that he was still alive. He took out his communicator and dialed headquarters. Samos picked up, his voice echoing through the small communicator, 'Samos here.'

'It's Lieutenant Kielyn Dun, I've been injured and currently situated a block from the wall and on the left flank of the metalhead flank. The area is clear of any metalhead opposition. Requesting a med team,' Kielyn said rather quickly and Samos struggled to catch what he was saying.

'Help has already been dispatched. Damas and his team should be closing onto your position in moments. They will have meds with them.'

True to Samos's words, Damas and his team arrived within a matter of minutes and had already been briefed of his predicament. Damas's team walked toward him with Damas leading them. Dressed in black imperial armor that seemed to suck in the light, Damas walked past Kielyn and stopped to look out at the battle field. The medics with him went over to Kielyn and addressed his wounds. Kielyn had only seen Damas in full armor once before and he had been in awe then as well. It was a very intimidating outfit, and made the white haired warrior seem larger than he really was. The others of the small party were also dressed in the same uniform, though for some reason, were not as intimidating as Damas.

The Medics brought out a green canister from the kit and poured some of the green eco onto his wounds. The sensation of his skin being exposed to the eco was somewhat exhilarating and odd at the same time. It was pleasantly cold but hot at the same time. He could feel it moving through his blood stream and working its magic on his wounds, which were shrinking as he watched. Kielyn was surprised to find he was no longer weary from the battle and found a new sense of vitality he had not known he possessed.

'I give you permission to head back to Samos's hut Lieutenant,' Damas said, now standing beside Kielyn and looking down at the young soldier.

'With all due respect sir, it's not like me to stand back and watch, especially when I'm not injured. I'd much rather prefer to get back out there and pick up where I left off,' Kielyn said feeling a little uneasy for being the centre of attention in a group of elite soldiers.

Damas couldn't help letting a smile escape onto his face. The boy reminded him of his younger self, full of spirit and cocky to boot. 'Alright suit up. You'll be coming with us'.

* * *

The Baron was getting a headache. He rubbed at his temple and tried to block out the useless stream of information coming out of the Commander of the Krimson Guard's mouth. His irritation of the KG's incompetence was focused on this one man, and the Baron had half a mind to get up and strangle the idiot. Instead he sat perched on his throne rubbing his head. 

'…and the people of the city are appalled at what is happening. Some minor revolts have broken out all ready, mind you, they were silenced quickly, but I don't think the peace will last for long. I…'

'The point of this example, Commander, is to show the people that resistance against me will not be tolerated. The people of the mid-sector are traitors as far as they know, and are no longer citizens of this city therefore I will not be sending in any of MY men, is that clear Commander?' The Baron interrupted.

'Yes sir, but what I'm trying to say is some of our most valuable researchers are in there and to loose them will…'

The Baron pointed at one of the other soldiers in the room and gave him the signal to fire at the Commander. The soldier lifted his blaster and aimed, pausing for a moment to look at his target, and fired a single shot. The Commander was dead before he hit the ground. His face was contorted in a look of disbelief and anger. And the Baron's headache lessened.

'You,' the Baron pointed at the soldier who killed the Commander, 'remove your helmet and tell me your name.'

The guard stepped forward and removed his helmet. A young tattooed face with hair of shocking orange stared back at him. The Baron looked at the young guard and nearly burst out laughing at the irony of the situation. The Baron knew him; he was the son of the, now late, Commander.

'My name is Errol sir'

'I know. I just ordered you to kill your father, which you did with out question. Do you wish to avenge him?'

'My father was an idiot sir, and I have no wish to kill you if that's what you mean.'

The answer was a good one and the Baron pondered over what to do next. He did need a new Commander for his KG, and Errol proved himself to be ruthless as he just killed his own flesh and blood. The man was also a good shot. What the heck, 'It's your lucky day Errol, well more or less. You have been promoted to Commander effective immediately. Now fix the damn mess you inherited!'

* * *

Damas informed Kielyn on the plan to seal up the hole. It was sound; take out the supports of a few key buildings to create a domino effect around the breach. The problems were in the getting to the key buildings which were inside the mass of the metalhead force and close to the wall. 

The squad skirted the left flank of the metalhead army. Although it was improbable that the metalheads would give a second thought to a small party, Damas made sure that they were well out of sight. There was no need to fight before it was time to do so. The buildings in the area were, for the most part, untouched by the waging battle. Damas looked around and saw women and children still residing in this area, he had forgotten that this was a residential area and the people still here were unable to leave. He hoped that there was no one left in the buildings they planned to collapse.

'We're in line with the first and second buildings sir. The third building is up a couple of buildings.'

'Good. We'll part company here. Lieutenant Kielyn, you're coming with my team to the third building,' Damas instructed his face set with determination. 'Remember to remain in constant radio contact. If it gets too hot, get the hell out.'

With a quick salute, the party split. The teams One and Two headed into the fray and towards their preordained buildings. While team three continued to skirt the left flank for a couple of blocks. The blaster fire increased in the intensity as One and Two reached the metalheads. Damas stopped at a corner and waved at them to go down it. Kielyn could feel his adrenaline starting to build, anticipating the awaiting battle before him.

When they finally reached the metalheads it was like a small wave crashing against the face of a cliff. Their blasters remained constantly firing into the metalhead flank. The skull gems bounced around them, but there seemed to be no end to the vial creatures. Kielyn was beginning to think that they wouldn't be able to break the line, let alone work their way into the center of the horde. Damas pushed forward, defying the odds and got ever closer to the metalheads. The others of team Three followed his example and formed a triangle, with Damas at the tip, and started to punch through. It happened slowly at first, then the pace seemed to quicken and the group was fully engulfed in the madness.

Damas didn't look back and didn't seem to notice that he was starting to get surrounded by the metalheads. The rest of the team started to fall behind his wake. Kielyn, as well as the other soldiers, recognized the situation immediately. A large burly man with a face that had been scared in numerous places, giving him a chiseled rough look, crouched and leapt into the metalheads separating Damas from the group. With the gap momentarily bridged as the dark skinned scarred warrior maintained a small radius free of metalheads, the others were quick to fill that gap and rejoin with their leader.

Damas kept moving. If they stopped now they wouldn't get the momentum going again and it would be impossible to move. Any other day it wouldn't seem so bad, but he had a mission to carry out. His communicator vibrated and the voice of Commander Wayland was recognizable through the static.

'Team Two currently holding position and awaiting orders. Oh and Sir, I believe you owe me 20 creds.'

Damn, thought Damas. He had placed a bet that his team would be the one to take positions first. It was the perfect motivator, betting was, the men always wanted to win a little extra by completing a task first. Damas had learned that lesson on one of his first missions when the commanding officer bet 50 creds that he would take out the most metalheads. At the end of the mission the men counted up the skull gems and, as it turned out, the commanding officer did kill the most metalheads. But the men had tried their hardest to humble the cocky commander, and the mission was completed a lot quicker and more efficient then had been expected. Damas smiled at the memory of him throwing two skull gems away so that he was the close second to the commander, only behind by one.

The communicator vibrated again, 'Team One holding position and awaiting orders. Tough luck Damas, hope it doesn't deflate that big ego of yours.'

Damas laughed at the comment. Gorin had never considered the thought of calling Damas by title, even when he had been king. And the man never had any problem telling Damas what he thought, in fact he told Damas near damned everything the man was thinking when he was thinking it. Yet somehow, the two had been the closest of friends since their early teenage years.

Team Three continued towards their building. They were going too slow, the men tired and wounded. Kielyn felt the effects of the green eco wear off and he was exhausted once more. He could tell the others were just as tired, and the pace slowed. Despite the metalheads being in every direction, especially right in front of him, he turned around for a brief look on the team's situation. Damas and his eyes locked in that instant, and he knew that things weren't looking good for them. Their momentum wasn't enough to take them all the way to the building which was now only a block away. It might as well be miles away because at the pace they were traveling it would take about the same amount of time if it were that far.

A split in the metalheads opened before Kielyn once again. He could see that, behind the wall of metalheads, there was clear ground. He broke from the group and ran for the space. The metalheads didn't seam to care any which way and for the most part didn't bother to stop him. He looked around trying to make sense of his instinctive desire to be here. The metalheads were swarming around the building, which in turn, created the space he now occupied. He decided he needed a better view and carefully scaled the steep crumbling staircase. He went to the first balcony and looked down. Damas and the rest of team Three had now completely stopped and had rearranged themselves in a protective circle. Kielyn felt bad for leaving them, and he was sure Damas would be pissed. But there was a purpose in his leaving. This way he could plan a way to get past the metalheads, and he could now see what he needed to do.

Kielyn went back to the staircase and climbed to the balcony above the one he was just on. As he suspected, a large pillar, that used to hold a section of the roof in place, was standing mostly intact and without any roof to hold up any more. He shot at the base of the pillar, making it thin enough to kick down. He kicked it as hard as he could and jumped back as it started to fall over the edge of the balcony.

Damas looked up in time to see the massive concrete pillar start to fall down onto the unsuspecting metalheads. He started to inch away from where it might land, his men did the same. The metalheads were still oblivious to the air born object hurtling towards them, picking up speed from gravity.

'Move away,' shouted Damas, aware that the pillar was getting uncomfortably close to the small squad of men.

Kielyn looked over the edge and saw the damage he had caused. The metalheads had split, just like he hoped they would, and stared at the wreckage with a weary eye. Damas and the other men did the same, which he was hoping they wouldn't. Damas looked up at the origin of the flying pillar and saw Kielyn gesturing for them to join him. It was a long shot but it was better than the position they were in now.

Damas and the rest of the small team quickly made their way through the rubble of the fallen pillar. Only few metalheads braved going into the wreckage and were easily taken care of.

Once team Three joined him on the balcony, Kielyn pointed out the alternative route to the building. It was a lot safer than the one they were on, as it involved avoiding the metalheads completely and going through the connected buildings. Damas agreed with this new plan and the group moved ahead.

The path connecting the buildings was a crumbling obstacle course. Debris was scattered everywhere. In some spots along the connecting bridge large gaps proved to be difficult to maneuver around. They continued on carefully to the target building managing to finally reach the support beams on the ground level and giving the 'okay' to teams One and Two.

'By the Precursers, Damas, it took you long enough,' Gorin said over the communicator, 'what happened to, "if it gets to hot, get the hell out"?'

'You know me Gorin, I can take the heat, just wanted to save your fair skinned ass from getting burned,' replied Damas.

'Playing the considerate bastard again?' Gorin said and Damas chuckled. 'Anyway, the charges are set and awaiting your signal.'

'Team One charges set as well,' said Wayland.

'Standby,' Damas said awaiting the last charge to be set by the teams own explosives expert, a scrawny wiry man with a hooked nose and sunken eyes. The expert gave Damas the thumbs up and walked back to the small group of warriors. 'Right,' said Damas into the communicator, 'on my mark set the charges to one minute…mark.'

The charges on the pillars sprang to life and beeped in sync with each other. The group burst out of the building the way they had come and hurried to get clear. In the hustle of the situation, Kielyn landed on a weak spot and the concrete under him collapsed. Unable to grasp a sturdy piece of building, Kielyn started to fall. A large hand grabbed his wrist and dragged him back up. Kielyn stared up into the large grizzled face of his rescuer and realized that it was the man that had bridged the gap between Damas and the rest of the group. His dark skin and dark brown eyes were set in silent determination as he started to pull Kielyn up.

'Thanks,' said Kielyn as his feet finally found firm ground.

'Save it for another time, now stay on my six,' the soldier's voice was deep and rugged and Kielyn did as he was told.

A muffled blast echoed throughout the sector and the group turned to see the three buildings fall and crash into the other surrounding buildings. A giant dust cloud enveloped the sector and the only sound was of crumbling buildings and the angry cries of the metalheads.

'Well done!' Samos's voice called through the communicator, 'It worked! The hole in the wall has been sealed.'


End file.
